


the legendary blade, femslash

by automatronic



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, FatT Femslash Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 19:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15396180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/automatronic/pseuds/automatronic
Summary: FatT Femslash Week 2018 prompt fillsDay 1: Winter - Hella/AdaireDay 2: Love Letters - Signet/BloomingDay 3: Dance - Rebecca/Castille





	1. Winter

If anyone asked Adaire, she’d argue that it’s cold as hell out here. She’s freezing at night; It’s a miracle that she hasn’t iced over in her sleep. It’s just good survival instinct to want to be near someone else, and Hella just so happens to be the hottest person here.

The warmest. Hella is the warmest person here. So it only makes sense to want to set up near her for the night. Throndir has his dog, and the church boy has…. Something, probably. Adaire doesn’t know or want to know enough about him to care. Whatever.

What matters is that she has a perfectly rational reason to snuggle right up next to Hella at night. Except this isn’t snuggling. Snuggling requires feelings, and Adaire isn’t being paid enough to have any of those on this job.

Hella doesn’t say anything while they set up at night, but she does flash Adaire a big, warm smile, and Adaire briefly considers praying for mercy. This woman is going to kill her.

Once they’re finally settled in, Adaire is still freezing. She’s never been this cold in her entire life. Hella, the furnace that she is, is sound asleep right next to her. Then, Hella grumbles something in her sleep, rolling closer and throwing her arm around Adaire in the process.

Adaire nearly shouts. This is bad. This is too close. This is what Adaire has been thinking about ever since she first saw Hella in Velas, loading up the cart, muscles straining against her tight shirt. 

She considers her escape routes. Waking Hella up is not an option, so she tired to inch her way out. Hella only pulls her in closer. Dammit. Adaire stills. At this point, she’ll probably just wake Hella up, and then they’ll have to deal with this, and right now she’s tired and she’s not nearly as cold as she used to be. 

Maybe it’ll be easy to pretend this never happened in the morning. Maybe she’s being an idiot right now. Regardless, Adaire soon finds herself drifting off into a warm, deep sleep in Hella’s arms.


	2. Love Letters

_ Dear Signet, _

_ I’m sure you’ve been asked this again and again, countless times, and will be asked again countless times, but still, I need to know: What was it like when Belgarde died? _

_ She still speaks to you, does she not? Empyrean no longer speaks to me. I worry what this means for us, for the fleet. We share a duty, Signet, to the people. But it is not one I asked for. I worry that I might not be strong enough to fulfill it. _

_ I fear for the future-- _

Blooming sits back against her chair, examining the tablet before her. She erases the last line.

_ I’m not sure what to do _

Another line is erased.

_ Being in the Beloved is dangerous. I am afraid that you will die and leave me alone. _

Blooming rubs at her eyes, wiping away the last line. She re-examines all that she has written, and dismisses the letter entirely. 

_ Signet, I wish to speak to you in person. Please visit me sometime on Seance. _

Blooming stares at the missive, then out at the city-ship of Seance. And then she looks past it, towards Empyrean’s Mirage. She does not hit send.

 

_ Dear Blooming, _

_ It has been too long since we spoke last. After the Miracle, you found yourself in the same place I once was. In the chaos of the new world, and in my elation at having Belgarde back, I assumed that you would cope as I had coped. I forgot the pain that I had felt then. I didn’t think of the pain that you would be in. _

_ I know that you have aligned yourself with the Waking Cadent, but there could be a place in the Notion for you still. _

Signet sighs, erasing the last line. 

_ I was wrong to leave you alone _

Another line erased.

_ I’m sorry _ .

After a pause, Signet erases the whole letter. Some things, some sentiments, cannot be expressed over letter. And she wants, she needs Blooming to know,

_ It has been too long, Prince. We should speak in person again. _

Signet stared at the brief message, and then out the window and into the system that has so rapidly become her home. The Mirage casts a comforting glow into her room. She hits send.


	3. Dance

The word changes sharply, after that High Sun Day. It’s almost like reconfiguration, yet it’s completely foreign. 

You could understand reconfiguration. It was a normal part of life. And it always left behind a world that you could make sense of, eventually.

It’s been years, and try as she might, Rebecca has not been able to make sense of any of this. 

Her lord is gone, and her city is unrecognisable. It’s like in this last not-reconfiguration, the world forgot to leave a place for her. Sure, there are still Lance Nobles, but there’s an uncertainty to it. Rebecca assumes that everyone must feel a degree of this uncertainty. But still.

It’s at a ball celebrating some new holiday that Rebecca cannot recognize that she sees someone truly familiar for the first time in a long time. She approaches not out of feelings of companionship, but because she just wants to interact with something from  _ before _ .

“What are you doing here?” she asks the familiar marbled face.

Castille doesn’t look at her, but she does smile softly.

“I could ask you the same, Lance Noble Orchid.”

Rebecca scoffs and rolls her eyes, but doesn’t walk away. She could antagonize Castille. Hold her accountable for this, for everything. Fall back on old animosity. But the years have been long, and Rebecca is nothing if she isn’t tired. Instead, she lets the air sit between them.

“It’s been a while,” Castille says after a moment.

Rebecca nods, following her gaze out towards the dance floor. The people celebrating today in their extravagant gowns and suits, they probably haven’t felt the change as acutely as everyone else. Or maybe the change was just a new avenue for profit to them. It’s not for Rebecca to know.

“It’s nice to see you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca is about to object. Nothing about their past encounters should make this one  _ nice _ . But Castille continues before she can.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face these days.”

Rebecca turns to Castille, whose eyes remain trained on the dance floor. They don’t really  _ know _ each other. This isn’t a meeting between old friends. This shouldn’t be anything at all.

But.

But Rebecca understands.

“Yeah,” she pauses, “it is.”

Castille snaps towards her, smiling. She looks like she hasn’t smiled like this in a long time. “Dance with me?”

Rebecca laughs, real and genuine. “I guess some things can never change, huh?”

Castille smiles even wider, extending her hand. Rebecca takes it.


End file.
